


Abandon All Hope

by junko



Series: Chasing Demons [56]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:58:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summoned to the Second Division to interrogate Renji's 'brother' Seichi, Byakuya and Renji each face their own demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abandon All Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Ooops, note added to belatedly thank Josey (cestus) for her beta-reading on this and the previous installment/chapter. Thanks! I never stop appreciating your help, HONESTLY!

Byakuya decided that while Soi Fon’s first move had been clearly designed to irritate him, the second was obviously meant to unnerve Renji.

Ōmaeda had led them to the prison facility’s main gate. Just behind them lay the large chasm that separated the Maggot’s Nest from the rest of the Division. A long, solitary wooden bridge creaked as it swayed; its eerie, lonesome sound raised the hackles on the back of Byakuya’s neck.

Unlike the Nest, the prison compound before them was entirely above ground. Through the barred gate, Byakuya could see a large central tower with barracks-like wooden buildings radiating from it in a cross-pattern. The grounds were large and desolate, empty of any features or greenery. Dust devils swept across the expanse in the strong wind that flapped his haori.

“What do you mean I got to leave my Zabimaru with you?” Renji’s voice, which had been gruff, if fairly good-humored previously, now held an edge of panic.

It didn’t help matters that the person who held out their hand was in full Stealth Division garb. The sleek black outfit highlighted muscle and sinew, but otherwise utterly concealed them. Byakuya wasn’t even entirely sure what gender the person was. Not that it mattered. The package simply implied: danger.

“Standard procedure, sir,” The Stealth operative said with an air of boredom. He or she showed Renji a thick silver cuff. “And you need wear this, too.”

“What the hell is that?”

Byakuya recognized it. “It’s a device that dampens your spiritual pressure. I suspect you must wear it to prevent the use of kidō inside the prison.”

“Well, tell them I don’t need _that_ , Taicho,” Renji said, turning to give Byakuya a pleading look. His hand still protectively gripped Zabimaru which he hadn’t removed from his obi yet. “My kidō sucks.”

“Just do as they ask, Renji,” Byakuya said patiently, wishing he could reassure Renji with more than an understanding look. But, Ōmaeda leaned against the metal bars of the gate, his arms crossed against his massive chest, smirking at Renji’s discomfort. Seeing that mocking expression sent a spike of heat into Byakuya’s heart, so he said, “But you may give Zabimaru to me.”

“Eh?” Ōmaeda asked, pushing off the gate to stand upright. “What’s this?”

“Zabimaru will stay with me,” Byakuya insisted. He held out his hands as if the matter were decided.

Renji didn’t hesitate now. “Yeah, okay,” he was saying as he pulled the sheathed zanpakutō from his obi. He seemed to talk to Zabimaru then: “I know you haven’t always been best of friends, but it’s better than a stranger, isn’t it?” Byakuya swore he could actually hear a rumbling laugh as Renji laid the sheath against Byakuya’s open palms. Renji echoed the zanpakutō’s sentiment with a grateful twinkle in his eye. “You don’t hold no grudges now, do you, Taicho?”

“Of course not,” Byakuya said, managing to sound appropriately disdainful.

Ōmaeda scratched the top of his bald pate at their exchange. “I guess that’s all right.” To Renji, he said, “You know your captain is going to be much farther away than the front gate, right?”

Renji nodded, his eyes tracking Zabimaru as Byakuya shifted the zanpakutō to hold at his side beside Senbonzakura. 

Ōmaeda had already explained on their way to the prison that they’d be separated. Byakuya would go from here to an observation area somewhere back at the main division headquarters. Soi Fon would be waiting. Together, they’d watch the proceedings using some kind of remote camera system, no doubt rigged up for them by the Twelfth Division. Byakuya had hoped to be physically closer to Renji, should the need for coaching or a rescue occur, but, clearly, Soi Fon had anticipated that.

There wasn’t much they could do about any of it now, except hope that Soi Fon really _was_ on their side.

Byakuya couldn’t stand to watch Renji be manacled in any way, however, so he turned away and started back the way they’d come. As expected, Ōmaeda huffed up beside him. “I guess you’re ready to go, huh, Captain?”

“Let’s get this over with,” he agreed flatly. “I have far more important things to do with my time.”

But, Byakuya had to clench his fist around Zabimaru to keep from looking back anxiously. 

#

Renji knew he shouldn’t resist, but, goddamn it, he wasn’t going to let them slap that cuff on him without a fight. He was glad that Byakuya had left, so the captain didn’t have to see the shameful pile of Stealth Division guys holding him in their expert choke holds while three of them slowly unwound his arm, trying to straighten it out. Hanging nearly suspended in the air on Renji’s forearm, the main gate guard said through clenched teeth, “You could _try_ to cooperate a bit more, Lieutenant!”

His muscles chose that moment to give out, so it didn’t matter anyway. The cuff was snapped into place with the slap of cold metal.

Renji felt the others start to loosen their grips. He shook them off and had just started to be able to breathe normally again when the bracelet on his wrist started to hiss and spit out tiny arcs of pink lightning. Suddenly, arms tightened around him again.

“What’s this?” The gate guard asked, peering into Renji’s face. “Are you captain-level?”

Renji shot her a snarling grin. “You didn’t know? I thought you guys were the spy corps.”

The gate guard let out a colorful string of curses. “You’ll just have to wear a second one.”

And so the fight started again.

#

Byakuya attempted to tune out Lieutenant Ōmaeda’s constant prattle the entire way back to the division. “You should really visit my estate,” he was suggesting, while jamming his elbow into Byakuya’s side suggestively, “I’ve got an eligible sister. You’ve been a widower long enough, haven’t you?”

Zabimaru growled in his hand. Byakuya couldn’t agree more. Another minute of this and he’d be tempted to see if Renji’s zanpakutō would bare its teeth for him.

A hiss of an affirmative jittered through Byakuya’s mind. 

Shocked, Byakuya stopped. He stood in the middle of the wooded path and stared at Zabimaru. Ōmaeda continued to blunder on ahead extolling the virtues of his sister, completely oblivious to the fact that Byakuya was now several steps behind. Byakuya lifted Zabimaru. The dappled sunlight through the trees muted its distinctive crimson-red wrapped hilt and the lightning strike guard. “You would?” he whispered to it. “You would release your shikai to me?”

 _Yes_ , it hissed, its voice clearer this time.

 _If only to shut that idiot up_ , a second, strangely-timbered, almost-alien voice added. _But, you will never have the skill to control us. Better to use us sealed._

“As satisfying it might be, I can’t actually kill him,” Byakuya said dryly.

 _Alas_ , Zabimaru hissed, though there was note of amusement as its cold, reptilian voice receded.

Ōmaeda finally realized Byakuya wasn’t beside him. He jogged back to ask, “You all right, Captain?”

Glancing at Zabimaru one last time, Byakuya shook his head in wonderment. Unorthodox to the core, Renji was. To Ōmaeda, he said, “Yes, I’m fine. However, Zabimaru just informed me that he likes you far less than I do.”

Ōmaeda blinked at Byakuya with a slack jaw hanging open stupidly. Finally, a smile curled his thick lips. “Did you just say you like me?”

Byakuya sighed and trudged onward.

#

Instead of going to one of the prison barracks like Renji expected, they’d led him to the large central tower. For the last several minutes, they’d been ascending the interior. Renji guessed they must be nearing the top, having gone through ring after ring of security checkpoints. At each one Renji had been fully scrutinized and the reiatsu-suppressing bracelets checked and rechecked. Even his escort had gotten tired of the routine and had started anticipating the surprised question with an impatient: “Yes, captain-level.”

Bars opened and Renji and his escort passed the last checkpoint and climbed a small flight of stairs. As they rose up, it became obvious that they’d reached the pinnacle of the tower. A single enclosed room dominated the circular space. At precise intervals along the wall stood dozens of hooded sentries facing inward, each armed with a pike-pole and zanpakutō.

Renji swept them all in his gaze, counting, considering. Their uniform and hidden faces, instantly reminded Renji of the guards that had led Rukia to another tower, the Senzaikyū. What was it with towers and his family, anyway?

“All this for a half-starved kid from the Rukongai, huh?” he asked his escort. “Seems like overkill, don’t it?”

“If you would just come this way, sir,” the lead guard said. In front of the door to the central room, he paused and pulled something from the inside pockets of his shihakushô. Holding it out pinched between finger and thumb, Renji thought it looked like a small black bead. “This is an ear bud,” the escort explained. “It will allow you to receive and transmit questions to and from headquarters.”

Taking it warily, Renji lifted it to his ear. Just as he was wondering how it would stay secure, he felt something like insect legs sprout from it. He would have dropped in surprise, but was already nestling itself against him, tickling something so deep inside his ear canal that it made him cough. “What the hell?”

The security escort gave him a wan smile. “You can thank the Twelfth for that.”

“Great,” Renji muttered, feeling the hard carapace-like nub inside his ear with his finger. “Is this thing going to know when to come out?”

“It responds to a radio signal,” the guard nodded. “Once you’re online, we’ll proceed.”

As if on cue, something crackled inside Renji’s ear, followed by a sensation not unlike a pop. Then, a tinny version of Soi Fon’s voice said, “We’re ready when you are, Lieutenant.”

Ready? Renji felt far from it. Still, there wasn’t much to do but plunge on ahead. “Yeah, okay, let’s go.”

The guard tapped his ear and seemed to receive a signal of his own. He nodded crisply as though in response to silent order. Stepping aside, he slid open the door for Renji.

Steeling himself for the worst with a careful breath, Renji took a step inside. The interior of the room was surprisingly bright, sunlight streaming in from a skylight set in the high ceiling. That was the only pleasant thing about it, however. The space was narrow and cramped and smelled of blood and the cold tang of fear.

Seichi knelt on the floor, his head bowed deeply. All Renji could see was his spiky light brown hair, still in its haphazard collection of twisted, matted clumps tied off with a variety of rags and colorful bits of cloth. His slouched posture was very defeated, but, despite clearly needing a bath, he seemed healthy enough.

Two white-clad guards stood on either side of him, each holding a pike, which, in these close quarters, could skewer Renji instantly from across the room. Seichi’s wrists were bound in front of him, encased in wooden manacle. His fingers were splayed on the tatami and spelled out the hand cant: ‘don’t freak out/stay cool.’

But, despite the warning, when Seichi lifted his face, Renji gasped.

In the center of Seichi’s forehead was now a bold, black tattoo—the kind used to mark criminals. It was a single word.

_Dog._

Those fucking bastards.

#

“Are you intentionally trying to provoke my lieutenant?” Byakuya snapped.

He sat with Soi Fon in front of a large flat projection screen that seemed to have grown out of the wall, complete with pulsing tentacles. The room had clearly once belonged to Yoruichi, as it was otherwise filled with comfortable, plush cushions. Many windows filled the space with spots of warm sunlight. Soi Fon looked decidedly out of place, unable to relax her stiff posture. 

Byakuya held Zabimaru across his knees and he felt a rush of panic as the blade’s energy seemed to evaporate. Suddenly, it felt as if he were holding dead steel, nothing but an asauchi.

The demon.

Dear gods, the demon was surfacing.

“Stop this immediately,” he said, shooting to his feet. Clutching the emptied husk of Zabimaru in his hand, Byakuya’s heart was in his throat. “I demand you call this off. Get Renji out of there right now.”

Soi Fon tilted her head to glance up at him. Her sharp features studied Byakuya carefully, her voice smooth and even as she asked, “What are you afraid of, Captain Kuchiki?”

“This,” he said with a gesture indicating the screen and the camera’s focus on the mark on Renji’s brother’s forehead. “It is now very clear that you’ve lured us here under false pretenses. The revolutionaries aren’t your goal,” Byakuya could feel the calm eroding from his voice. “What can possibly be gained by this deliberate harassment?”

“We have a new mandate,” Soi Fon said simply. “In the wake of Aizen’s betrayal, Second’s duty is to uncover potential threats _inside_ the Gotei Thirteen.”

“Renji is entirely loyal to the Gotei,” Byakuya insisted.

Returning her gaze to the screen as though dismissing him, she said, “Then you should have nothing to fear, Captain.”

#

Dog on his face and shoved to his knees.

It was like that moment, long ago, when Renji had been forced to let another brother die. Only this time, he would kill them. Kill them all.

He felt himself sinking down as something else rose up.

The silver bracelets on Renji’s wrists began to short circuit with a noisy buzz and pop. Pink lightning bolts arced from metal to skin, shooting out flashing sparks. But, then, suddenly, he wasn’t alone. Even as Renji’s soul howled with rage, a preternatural calm settled on his shoulders. Like a warm touch it spread slowly through his body, stilling his trembling muscles, unclenching his jaw, relaxing the fists that had curled at his side.

Zabimaru. 

_Steady_ , a voice hissed. _We are with you._

Seichi’s smile was strained and weak as he nervously offered, “I guess we match now, eh?”

Renji’s return grin was just a little too toothy, but he managed to sound perfectly at ease when he said: “Yeah, but some amateur did yours. What the fuck, bro, they didn’t even give you decent eyebrows.”

Watching the guard carefully, Renji reached up and untied his bandana. When he took a step forward, however, two pike tips were leveled at his heart. He raised his hands slowly, but somewhere, deep inside, a demon calculated.

“I’m just going to let Seichi borrow this, understand?” Renji said to the air. He glanced around wondering if the cameras could see how his pupils shrank and reddened, or if the little alien in his ear could pick up the demon’s cries. Surely, with his hands up like that, they could see the straining bracelets, sputtering and stuttering so much now they seemed to strobe from pink to silver. But the calm came through the haze, prompting Renji to say: “I’m here to do a job, but I ain’t got to take your insult to do it, do I?”

A long, tense silence followed. The pike blades stayed pressed to his heart. 

“You want your information, don’t you, Captain? That’s why I’m here…. Right?” Renji asked. “Just let me have this one thing, and then the show’s all yours.”

“Very well,” at the same time Soi Fon’s voice spoke in his ear, the blades lifted with precision. 

A few more steps forward and Renji knelt before his brother. With deliberate movements, Renji adjusted the cloth. Seichi’s thick dreadlocks made it hard to get around his head, until Renji shifted a few to flop over the headband. As Renji leaned in to tie it into place, Seichi tremulously whispered, “Why are you here, Renji? I’ve already answered all their questions… I told them you weren’t involved.”

Renji pulled back, surprised. He grabbed Seichi’s shoulders and searched his eyes, “What? Didn’t you tell these goons you’d only talk to me?”

There was a shift of the guards’ feet. Seichi’s mouth snapped shut and he bowed his head deeply. Renji didn’t even need to see the slight shake to know the answer to his question.

Letting Seichi go, Renji stood up. “What the hell is this? What’s going on here?”

“Are you ready to ask the questions, Abarai?” Soi Fon’s voice asked sharply.

Renji laughed, feeling the demon dissipate. Uncoiling from his heart, it slithered away, sinking back to whatever depths it came from. “Sure,” he said, “Why not? We might as well continue this farce.” 

#

“You see?” Byakuya asked, relief allowing him to finally drop back to the floor to sit. Zabimaru still felt hollow, but, all of a sudden, the realization no longer terrified him. Instead, Byakuya found himself breathing a silent prayer of gratitude to the nue.

Soi Fon’s face was pinched and frustrated, as she warned, “It’s not over yet.”

But it was. 

Byakuya relaxed back into Yoruichi’s cushions, no longer bothered. Renji had Zabimaru and the truth. That was all he needed. No matter what provocation Soi Fon threw at him now, Renji and Zabimaru would weather it together. Perhaps later, he would rage about how poor Seichi was being used as a pawn in all this, but maybe Renji would be comforted by the fact that it was obvious that Seichi was an Abarai—as brave and selfless as his brother.

“You already knew Renji had no involvement with this revolution business,” Byakuya remarked, half listening to the questioning. “So what exactly had you hoped for?”

“Your lieutenant has already shown his willingness to turn traitor for his family,” Soi Fon replied, her eyes searching the screen.

“And you hoped to catch him at it again,” Byakuya nodded in understanding. “But, it’s not like that, is it? The truth is that Renji was one of the few of us who not only suspected something was fishy about the orders from Central, but who also had the nerve to act on it--to push back and break the law to prove it. Think of the depth my personal shame when it was revealed he was right, knowing I had a chance to listen, but refused.”

Soi Fon quietly fed another question to Renji in her microphone, and then turned to address Byakuya. “He was lucky. You give him far more credit than he deserves.”

Byakuya looked down at Zabimaru in his lap. “Perhaps,” he admitted, stroking the smooth leather scabbard with his fingertips. “Though perhaps too much blame as well.”

She was frowning at him. “What does that mean?”

“I’ve misunderstood something critical about Zabimaru,” he explained. “However, that’s between my lieutenant and me.” Lifting a hand at the sham proceedings playing out on the screen, Byakuya redirected the conversation, “You see now that Renji acts accordingly when justice is served. He understands a true criminal must face his punishment. Even when you intentionally disfigure his brother in the most incendiary way possible, Renji accepts this. You cannot doubt his loyalty any longer. You must see what I do: a soldier doing his duty, despite the personal cost.”

“I do,” Soi Fon said crisply. “I’m less convinced he wasn’t lucky this time as well, but I must concede your point.”

Byakuya nodded. “I appreciate your willingness to admit that.”

Speaking into the microphone, she called an end to the questioning. Standing up, she said, “You have such admiration for him. Will you stand for his captaincy?”

“When the time comes, I will,” Byakuya said, rising to his feet as well.

She let out a scoffing laugh. “When the time comes? Abarai nearly broke my bracelets with those power surges of his. What milestone do you think he needs yet to cross?”

“Control,” Byakuya said honestly. Glancing down at Zabimaru, he added, “Though that’s not as far away as I once feared.”

#

Renji was still shaking his head when the guard at the door slid the door open. The mood had shifted instantly once the questioning started. Everyone, except poor terrified and confused Seichi, was bored and disinterested. 

They hadn’t even asked anything Renji really wanted to know. Like, had Seichi done it? Was his brother culpable in Fujimoto’s murder? What had the rebels hoped to gain by attacking a foot patrol from the Sixth? Was it just some random act of violence or had they been after someone or something specific? 

Instead it was all ‘where were you on the night, who were your companions, can you describe the scene, and who all is in your organization…?’ Stuff they must have asked Seichi a million times.

What the hell.

Was anyone really investigating Fujimoto’s death?

“What a bunch of bullshit,” Renji grumbled. Looking back at the guards who were hauling Seichi to his feet, Renji hooked his thumb at them and ask, “What happens to him now?”

The guard who’d been the friendliest this whole time lifted his shoulder, “We take him back to his prison barracks where he stays until it’s determined if he’s guilty of murder or not. If he is, he’s hanged. If not, the tattoo is considered punishment enough and he’s released.”

“Wait, what? So you guys really don’t even know if he did it?”

Raising his hands for peace, the guard said, “I’m just the warden, pal. You got to talk to the investigators if you want details like that.”

“How about if I just ask him?” Renji suggested, tipping his head in the direction of Seichi.

“Knock yourself out,” the guard said. “We’re all headed in the same direction, anyway. Hey, Yogi, move over. Let the lieutenant take him.”

Yogi, one of the white-clad guards in question, looked startled either by the order or by the sound of his name. He seemed confused for a moment, but eventually nodded and offered to let Renji take his spot holding one of Seichi’s arms. 

Seichi looked up at Renji nervously, but Renji gave him a little reassuring squeeze. “I want to see your new digs,” Renji said.

“Oh, you’re gonna be wildly impressed, Renji. It’s got its own roof and everything,” he said, some of his former humor returning. 

“A roof, huh? I see how it is. You’re Mr. Big Shot now, eh?”

“Well, yeah, look at my entourage,” Seichi pointed out, lifting his manacled hands. “Clearly, I’m the prince of this place.”

They did make an impressive parade: two Stealth Operatives in front; Renji and a white-clad pike-holder on either side of Seichi; and the leftover guy, Yogi, trailing behind. 

The main tower room was so much dimmer that it took Renji’s eyes a moment to adjust. Soon enough, they were trudging down endless stairs, stopping at each checkpoint. But, getting out was much less of a hassle than coming in. There were no questions at all except to ask which prison barrack’s number Seichi was returning to. Some guards took one look at Seichi and just marked down ‘Twenty, right?’

Apparently Seichi caught Renji’s frown after one of these exchanges because he explained, “There’s a hierarchy even here. Lower districts get the lowest number. There’s enough of us from Inuzuri and Zaraki we got a place to ourselves.”

“Nice,” Renji muttered.

“As you can imagine, it has all the latest amenities,” Seichi said

Meaning it was the worst of the worst. Great. Renji had made some peace with all this, but now it was starting to grate on him again. 

They stepped out of the tower into a dusty courtyard. Wind howled along the edges of the buildings. 

“But maybe you deserve worse, huh?” Renji asked. “Did you do it, Seich? Did you kill my soldier?”

“I was there,” Seichi said. Dropping his smile, his voice was colder and more timid. 

“Why’d you do it? I mean, what’s she to you? It’s not like our patrols carry money or goods. There was nothing to gain from it, was there?”

Seichi shook his head, his face pinched. “I hadn’t heard you were with the Sixth, Renji. I swear I only found out when it was too late,” he said softly. “We only knew it belonged to the Kuchiki.”

Oh. So this was about hitting the noble houses. Sheesh. Renji gave Seichi a little smack on the head, surprising the guards and Seichi. “The soldier you killed was from the Rukongai, you moron,” he said. “Most of the rank and file are, especially the ones in the field, you fucking idiot.”

“Name a better target in the Rukongai,” Seichi protested. 

Renji could think of several, including the supply lines of food and goods that went directly to the noble houses instead of the Gotei. Of course those were civilian tradesmen, some of whom the Gotei protected. But even so, knocking over those would give a person not only a direct hit against the clans, but also net some tradable, edible goods.…and then there were businesses that catered directly to nobles with too much money and time... so, “Wait, are you telling me that you and your stupid comrades looked around at all the things to go after in the Rukongai and said to yourselves, ‘You know what? That tight-knit, highly-trained attack force armed to the teeth with living weapons seem like a perfect mark. Because, you know, we’ve got rocks and sticks. No one can withstand rocks!’ You got rocks for brains or something?”

Seichi blushed and looked away. “You were always the smart one, Renji.”

Renji laughed. “God help ya. But, you don’t have to be the smart one to figure out that was not only bad idea but suicidal. Who talked you into this, huh? Because you can’t tell me not one of your gang looked at those odds and said ‘No fucking way.’”

They’d come to the farthest door at the end of a long barracks building. Renji could hear the sounds of squabbling inside. Just as he figured, the place was probably run by whoever was the toughest and the guards were there just to make sure nobody escaped the compound. He shivered. It was probably a rat’s nest in there. It smelled like a pig sty, and they hadn’t even opened the door yet.

Seichi’s mouth had gone hard. “You wouldn’t understand, Renji.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he said.

They stood in front of the barrack’s door while one of the white-garbed guards produced a key to unlock Seichi’s manacles. 

Renji stepped out of the way to let them take over. “Whoever fed you idiots advice was fucking with you, Seichi. They weren’t part of your rebellion, they were making sure you got caught. Hell, you dopes were lucky you even got in a kill without getting all your asses slaughtered. If you’re protecting your leader, they sure as shit ain’t doing you the same favor.”

“He’s gone, anyway,” Seichi said. “Disappeared. We’re on our own now.”

“How’s that working out for you then?” Renji scoffed, but his taunt dried in his throat when the manacles were removed and the sunlight glinted on a thin metal band on Seichi’s wrist. Grabbing Seichi’s arm he looked at it. Sure enough, it was thinner, but otherwise exactly like the ones around his wrists. “What the hell is this?” Renji demanded of the guard.

“Standard procedure,” one of them supplied.

“Keeps ‘em from getting ornery with hunger,” another said.

Because they were all hungry. Everyone in the prison had enough spiritual energy to be fighting, so of course they had reiatsu. Renji searched Seichi’s eyes, “Why didn’t you go to Academy when you had the chance?”

“They wouldn’t take me with a criminal record,” Seichi said. “But, it never even interested me. I don’t want to be a tool like you, Renji. I don’t want to serve in Heaven-- bowing and scraping to the bastards who keep us down, starve us out on purpose, who let us suffer and die. Fuck that, brother. Fuck all that.”

The guard moved in to take Seichi in to the barracks and Renji was forced to let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes history is a Muse. When I was looking for information about Edo Period prisons in Japan, I discovered that tattooing was once a punishment for certain crimes. In fact, I came across this: ‘Criminals were marked with a variety of symbols that designated the places where the crimes were committed. In one region, the pictograph for **"dog"** was tattooed on the criminal's forehead.’ -- <http://www.vanishingtattoo.com/tattoo_museum/chinese_japanese_tattoos.html>


End file.
